of Hats and Curls
by Fuzziepeach
Summary: Romano's been a little...strange lately with his unruly obsession with wearing a hat. In Spain's attempts to try and discover why, he ends up discovering something /much/ more intriguing... -The classic "erogenous zone curl" plot. -dun worry there is frickle fracking in this fic (• •)


France sat down next to Spain at a small table inside the café they were in.

"how many days now?" He asked, setting two cups of coffee down for the two of them. Spain picked one up and looked to the man sitting across from him. "Five." He answered precisely. "He won't take it off no matter what! I don't understand."

France cocked his head a little at his friend, just as confused. "Maybe he's just fond of the thing, I say just let him wear it, he'll get bored eventually, you know how Italians are with their fashion."

Spain fiddled with a napkin lying on the table. Maybe France was right, but who wears the same hat for five days straight? As cute as Romano looked in it, Spain missed looking at his hair. He imagined the dark auburn locks, the way Romano automatically brushed it out of his eyes from time to time, the cute-looking curl that stuck out to the right of his head, something that seemed somewhat common amongst Italians…

France waved a hand in front of Spain's face, shoving his daydreams aside. "Have you thought about asking him why he's been wearing it so much?" He asked.

Spain shook his head dumbly. "Why didn't I think of that?" he asked aloud, smiling outwardly to the Frenchman. "I'll try that when I meet him at home tonight." He stood up, grabbing his jacket off of the chair. "Well," he started, "I'd better get going, thanks for meeting me here." He waved at France as he went out the door.

France smiled to himself as Spain exited the café. "Could Romano possibly…? Nah.." he thought, waving back.

Spain finally arrived home as the sun was beginning to disappear behind the horizon. He entered his house, and upon closing the door, found Romano asleep on the couch.

"Taking a siesta at this time of day?" Spain smiled to himself as he approached the sleeping country, hat still clinging to his head. "How uncomfortable," he thought as he watched Romano sleep, "Who sleeps with a hat on?" He slowly reached down to tan-colored hat's brim, and gently lifted it off of Romano's head. Before he could get it off, however, the Italian awoke with a jolt.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed, pulling the hat down with abnormal speed. "What the hell are you doing, bastard?"

Spain put his hand to his side, ignoring the insult. "Roma, how can you sleep with a hat on? Take it off, you've been wearing it for five days now."

"No."

"Why? Please take it off, Romano, I wanna see your hair." He whined.

Romano felt his face get hot, and immediately looked away. His hair…his curl, rather, had been…_extremely _sensitive lately for some reason. So sensitive that he'd been unable to even comb his hair. He'd only been wearing this hat to hide his un-groomed hair, and, well, protect his curl.

He tried to think of something believable to say in reply to Spain.

"I'm… having a bad hair day." He replied, happy with his answer. It wasn't a lie, after all.

"…Romano, it's been five days." Spain responded.

"Fine! Week! I'm having a bad hair week!" he blurted, face beginning to redden even more.

"Romano, you of all people should know that I don't care what your hair looks like, this is getting silly, just take the hat off! If you think your hair looks bad, I'll fix it for you."

"No, dammit…" Romano stood up and began walking away, out of things to say, when he felt a hand on the side of his head. The inside of the hat rubbed against Romano's curl. He stopped dead in his place. _"This is bad"_ He was unable to move.

As Spain lifted the hat from Romano's head, he heard a small whimper escape from the Italian's mouth.

Romano immediately clasped a hand to his mouth, facing away from Spain.

"See?" Spain said, quickly hugging Romano from behind. "your hair doesn't look that bad, just a little messy." He then began running his hands busily through Romano's hair in an attempt to smooth it out. Before Romano could protest, however, he felt his legs giving out from beneath himself. He clumsily tried to step away from his attacker, but to no avail. Somewhat falling, he turned himself and involuntarily clung onto Spain, his face buried in the taller country's shoulder in an attempt to muffle the sounds he was beginning to make.

"R-Romano? Are you okay?" Spain took his hands away from the messy head of hair and moved them to Romano's waist, helping him keep balance. "Romano, you feel hot, do you have a fever? Are you sick?"

Romano lifted a hand to his mouth and bit down. _This clueless bastard._ Feeling the hands on his waist triggered a greater want to be touched more – not that he was going to let Spain know that.

"I'm… I'm just- dammit…" He couldn't speak properly.

"You should sit down-" Spain said, pulling Romano closer to him. Suddenly, he felt himself being pushed onto the couch behind the two of them. Romano pressed himself against Spain's body, grabbing Spain's wrists and placing them onto his hips once again.

"All…your fault, bastard."

Spain widened his eyes at this sudden advancement. "My fault? Roma-"

"My hair, dammit. I told you…the hat…"

Spain looked up at Romano face, coming to somewhat of an understanding as to what Romano meant.

"Romano… were you wearing that hat to hide your curl?"

Romano ignored the question, sliding his hips forward, making his steadily rising erection announced to Spain. "T-touch me." He breathed heavily into Spain's ear. Without asking any more questions, Spain was more than happy to comply to this eager request. He ran his hands up Romano's shirt, trailing his fingers along the smaller man's back.

Impatient, Romano reached for Spain's shirt, quickly pulling it upward over his head, and threw it onto the floor. Spain moved his hands to Romano's head, taking the curl in one hand. _I just need to see for sure… _He began rubbing it between his forefinger and thumb.

Romano let out a submissive moan and collapsed onto Spain, shirt half off, their bare chests touching. Spain lifted Romano's face with his free hand and kissed him, gently at first, then more hungrily as the Italian parted his lips, allowing Spain's tongue access.

"You're being unusually compliant, Roma" Spain said, breaking the kiss (and reveling in his new discovery.) "Do you like it when I touch you here?" Spain continued to play with the curl between his fingers, triggering another series of desperate whimpers and moans from the country straddling his lap.

Romano's labored breaths hindered his words as he attempted to respond to Spain. "Not - ah – not important… Spain, p-please…" Again, Romano slid his hips back and forth into Spain's lap, begging to be relieved of the stiff arousal between them.

Now, Spain was bordering the peak of his own arousal, the desperate expression on the Italian's face was making it hard for him to contain himself. He began planting kisses along Romano's neck, slowly letting his hands travel to the heat pressing against his lap. Romano's legs instinctively tensed in impatient anticipation.

Letting his dominant side take over, Spain pulled Romano even closer onto his lap; so much that the smaller country's knees were practically touching the couch cushions behind the Spaniard. Aggressively lifting Romano's shirt over his head, Spain slid the T-shirt off of his partner the rest of the way. With the obstacle of the shirt now gone, Spain made his way down to Romano's chest, lightly gliding his tongue along the tanned skin, pausing each time he felt a shudder of pleasure from his partner.

"Fu…" Romano panted, "S-stop fucking teasing me…"

"Sorry" Spain smiled, placing his lips onto Romano's. He quickly and easily undid the button of Romano's pants and began gently stroking the more than ready length, the precum that coated his palm acting as a natural lubricant, and seemingly getting hotter and hotter with each stroke he made. Romano writhed in Spain's lap, pretending not to enjoy this as much as he was.

"Your hand… is cold- ah-! He jolted as he felt one of the pleasingly chilly fingers gently massage the tip of his erection. Spain smiled again and continued. "You're so cute, Romano~" he teased, leaning forward to kiss him behind the ear.

"S-shut up," Romano weakly retorted back, unable to say much more. Two hands lifted Romano slightly, creating enough for Spain to reach behind and underneath the slim body. Feeling the hand beneath him, the Italian's eyes widened, and although somewhat surprised, he didn't protest. Spain then raised one hand to Romano's mouth, running his thumb across his bottom lip, asking permission to enter. Romano instinctively parted his lips. Taking two of the fingers into his mouth, he enveloped them around his tongue, coating them heavily with saliva, and tasting a faint trace of salt, precum still on Spain's fingers.

He hastily reached down as Spain took the now lubricated fingers out of his mouth, and began fumbling with the zipper of the Spaniard's pants. The larger country smiled down at Romano's hands. He watched them clumsily try to undo the button and zipper of his pants, suddenly realizing how…tight they had become in response to the situation at hand. He decided he needed to prepare Romano quickly before he lost control. Again, he reached beneath the Italian, letting his wetted fingers find their destination.

"Gah," Romano whined, "Why are your pants so confusing?!" He struggled a bit more before giving up and pouting. "It's not fair."

"Just be patient," Spain coaxed, "Good things come to those who wait, you know."

"This isn't the time for your useless advice, bastard," Romano panted back, angry at his lack of coordination. Spain simply hummed in reply, gradually inserting a finger, then two, in from under Romano. Even though he tried to do so as gently as possible, he felt jagged, heavy breaths against his neck, along with fingernails digging into his back abruptly. Romano clung to Spain, back slightly arched. "It fucking hurts, do it slower-!" He gritted his teeth.

"I'm sorry, Roma," Spain replied, a softness in his tone of voice, "Please just bear with it for a bit… oh! Will it make it any better if I touch your curl, too?"

"Y-you're a pervert."

"I just want you to feel good~"

"ngh-ah..! There you go again.. Don't…Don't just say things like that!"

Spain raised the hand that wasn't busy and silently reached up to stroke Romano's hair.

"Bastard – I told you not to-! Ah… S-Spainnn" his back arched more prominently now, and he shuddered more with each touch to the sensitive curl. "You never told me not to touch it." Spain sang back. He continued moving his fingers back and forth into Romano while simultaneously rubbing the hair between his fingers with his other hand.

Romano's disapproving grunts slowly turned into soft moans and mewling sounds. Labored breaths escaped his throat, and he unknowingly began rocking downward onto Spain's fingers, erection stout and begging to be touched. "Spaiiin," he pleaded, on the verge of coming, "Spain, I'm – gonna…"

The Spaniard quickly pulled his fingers out from under the Italian on his lap. "Already? I'm only using my fingers…" He smirked. "How lewd~" Leaning as close as he could to the panting country, he purred "Do you really want to come, Roma?"

Romano averted his eyes, afraid of the lust that they most likely held. Not even Romano could abstain to those eyes, not at times like this, especially. He nodded furiously, however, no longer able to lie to himself. As if waiting for the cue, Spain then reached downward and easily undid the button on his pants, releasing the slightly painful discomfort from his boxers.

Suddenly remembering the essential need for lube, Spain scanned the living room, his eyes stopping on a bottle of lotion next to the couch.

"Ah, Romano, all we have is this lotio-"

"Well it'll have to fucking work." The Italian cut him off, tearing the bottle from his hands and starting to pump the lotion into his own. After throwing the bottle aside, he placed his unctuous hands onto Spain's cock and coated it with the substance, earning himself a moan or two from the Spanish country. Without further hesitation, Romano lowered himself onto Spain's upright length, desperate to be releaved of the pressing sensation inside of himself.

Spain closed his eyes for a moment, feeling Romano take him in. "He feels so hot…" he thought to himself. He opened his eyes, but kept them half-shut. "I really love it when you're so willing, Romano. I can't believe you never told me about your sensitive spot." He commented as Romano adjusted himself on Spain's lap.

"You talk…way too much." Romano replied between winces of pleasure.

"Sorry," Spain replied, nuzzling the neck of the Italian, smiling upon the smooth skin touching his lips. Romano threw his head back at the unexpected contact, then, regaining himself slightly, scooted forward a bit so his erection was touching Spain's lower stomach, and tightened his grip around the tanned shoulders before steadily moving up and down. The hot breath he exhaled into Spain's ear began to fill with soft whimpers and mutterings of Spain's name.

Spain, not having to do much work, reveled in the intense heaven he was in. Romano moved faster, and Spain could feel his partner's erection brushing against his stomach each time Romano lifted and lowered himself. He reached out two hands and took hold of the slender hips, moving with them, guiding them faster and faster.

A sudden moan escaped Spain's throat and he dug his fingernails into Romano's thighs inadvertently. The Italian bit his lip at this. He didn't have any doubt that he'd have marks from Spain's fingers later, but he felt so good that he couldn't care less. Plus, he actually sort of enjoyed the unintentional roughness that the Spaniard was creating. He was on the brink of pure pleasure, teeming with both frustration and ecstasy, and he was fully aware that he couldn't hold out much longer. Grinding even harder (if that was even possible) onto Spain's lap, the Italian strained himself in a desperate attempt to reach climax.

"S-Spain, I'm… fuck, I'm gonna co-! He was cut off by the intense sensation that came over his body. He instantly buried his face into Spain's neck, eyes shut tightly as constricted wails forced their way out of his mouth.

Spain then complied to both of their needs by gently bucking his hips upward, bringing himself to climax, and sending Romano even further off the edge.

"A-Agh! Hnn…Spai-n…" waves of pleasure crashed over Romano, who tightened his grip even more as he felt the Spaniard coming inside of him.

"R-Romano…" Spain breathed, "Te amo."

The smaller country slowly began to regain his senses, and slid himself off of Spain's lap and onto the couch, panting heavily. "T…ti amo." He mumbled.

Spain chuckled quietly as he reclined next to his partner, kissing him lightly.

"Now I'm all sweaty," Romano complained. "I want to take a shower.

Spain leaned closer to the Italian, the gentle smile still on his face. "Want me to help you wash your hair~?" he teasingly purred.

Romano covered his face with both hands, blushing like crazy now. "Shut up, pervert." He said, parting his fingers to smile at The Spaniard. "Fine."


End file.
